


Slayer

by hrhrionastar



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-22
Updated: 2011-11-22
Packaged: 2017-10-26 10:44:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/282139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hrhrionastar/pseuds/hrhrionastar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the throneland Genre Swap challenge. Daenarys Targaryen is the Slayer. Based on BtVS.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slayer

"You must return to Westeros," Ser Jorah Mormont insisted. "Between them, the Stark werewolves and the Lannister demons are destroying your home."

Daenarys Targaryen crossed her ankles and regarded her Watcher solemnly. Most people would have assumed Ser Jorah's words mere hyperbole, but Dany knew he spoke the plain truth. The Starks were werewolves and the Lannisters demons, and Dany was the Slayer. She had a duty to defend Westeros from the forces of darkness.

And yet she'd never set foot there, and she wasn't at all sure she could convince Drogo to leave his home behind for untold dangers in Westeros. She refused to be parted from him.

"There are demons here," Dany countered. "I need not cross an ocean to find an evil to fight, Ser Jorah."

Her Watcher couldn't deny the force of that argument; his lips tightened, but, turning on his heel, he left Dany to her own devices.

She wrapped herself in the warm fur coat Drogo had given her for a birthday present. He was so sweet, and so protective. Dany was the Slayer and didn't need defending, but nonetheless it was nice to be loved and valued just for herself. She'd never had that before. Even Ser Jorah's affection was tainted with duty, his and hers, and with a certain wariness—almost fear—because of who she was.

As though called by her thoughts, Drogo appeared. Dany smiled a warm welcome.

Drogo bent to brush her lips with his. The kiss was enthusiastically returned.

At length, however, Dany pulled reluctantly away to breathe, and Drogo sat down beside her on the bed, putting an arm around her shoulders.

"Ser Jorah wants me to go to Westeros," Dany sighed, leaning her head against Drogo's shoulder. "He says it's my destiny."

"Make your own destiny, moon of my life," Drogo told her. "Whatever your heart desires."

Dany smiled. If only it were that easy.

She was not afraid of the Starks or the Lannisters, but she did fear the curse in her own blood. Slayer or not, Dany was a Targaryen. Her brother, Viserys, had succumbed to the vampire bloodlust that had plagued their family for generations.

He'd actually been about to kill Dany when Drogo drowned him in a pool of molten gold.

Dany mourned Viserys without regretting his death. She was sworn to fight the forces of evil wherever they might appear, even in her own family. Even in herself, if necessary.

Ser Jorah swept inside suddenly. Dany sat up, confused—she was sure she'd convinced him to stop nagging for a little while, anyway.

Beside her, Drogo merely waited in polite and somewhat hostile silence.

"Daenarys!" Ser Jorah exclaimed. "Word from Westeros—while the Starks and Lannisters squabble for victims and for the infamous Iron Throne, the north has been overrun by an army of zombies!"

Drogo glared. Dany knew he shared her exasperation.

"A zombie apocalypse?" she asked wearily, reaching for her good boots and her lucky stake.

Duty called.


End file.
